The Spencer Boys
by Dread-Pirate-Not-Roberts
Summary: Shawn Spencer gets news of an old relative coming to Samta Barbra. The two boys have a lot to talk about... Including a murder.
1. Chapter 1

It was a quiet day in the Psych office in Santa Barbra, California. Shawn Spencer sorted a pile of papers. Well, he didn't really sort them. He just kind of... Threw them in a pile. Boom. Work done.

What else could he do? They looked decent.

Once there was a clear space on his desk, he set down his small leftover box from China Bear Express. And by "his" box, it means "Gus's" box. Shawn picked up the plastic fork and turned on the TV, watching "Sewage and Recreation" as he devoured somebody's wonderful delicious Orange Chicken. It really was good, just not as good as first day. (Leftovers have a tendency to not be as good as when you sit down in a restaurant with the fresh food.)

As he moved on to Chow-mien, the commercials came in and he changed the channel.

When he heard the door open, Shawn tossed the box onto the very desk of Gus, and rushed the papers over so his partner appeared the messy. He flipped the channel to the Channel 4 News to look like a professional.

"Shawn, I-" Henry Spencer froze in his steps. "WHOO. What happened in here."

"No, what happened to YOU?" Shawn rose and bounced on his toes, grabbing the takeout again. "Are you getting married again, dad?"

"Wha- no." Henry looked down at his nice tie and suit. "No. I- someone's coming to dinner-"

"Ooh la la." Shawn rolled his eyes and chuckled as he plopped into the old couch. "Is it the marine biologist?"

"No!"

"Lassie?"

"Shawn, it's-"

"Oh," Shawn pressed a hand to his own beautiful head of hair; fork between his fingers. "I'm getting some vibrations-"

"It's Eliot."

"Mm, ye-" Shawn froze, then turned in his chair. "Eliot?"

Henry sighed and opened his hands, then dropped them to his side. "Yes. Eliot Spencer."

Shawn stood, mouth opening, making a weak noise, then closing.

The door opened again, and Gus entered, warning that Shawn better not have eaten his takeout leftovers.

But he saw Shawn staring at Henry and paused. "Uh. Did I come in at a bad time?"


	2. Chapter 2

[Hey, guys! So much love, wow! I will try to update as often as I can- but senior year is hard. I've got five AP classes and college applications ?. At this point, whenever I'm not doing homework, in going to try to write. But no problem-o for you guys, things should get way easier after Christmas! ❄ I've also been waking up more and more often from nightmares that are very vivid and terrifying and I can't stop them... And the chapters should be longer... But I'm writing this on an iPhone, so if anything looks funny, its because of autocorrect. Let me know and I'll try to fix it! Loves and kisses! ?]

Shawn paced the office. "Dad," He stopped on his toes and whirled around to his father. "You never told me this! When is he coming?"

"Tomorrow. That's when he should be here-"

"Tomorrow? Tomorrow!"

Gus, who despite being Shawn's best friend, hadn't seen him this distressed in quite some time. "Shawn, who exactly is coming tomorrow? And why is the office a mess? And so help me, you better not have eaten all my takeout-"

Shawn rocked on his heels, hands pressed together as his brows creased together. He didn't cease the praying or swaying to reply. "Sorry, Gus. My dad is gay and his secret boyfriend is coming into Santa Barbra with his wife."

Gus clicked his lips with a "tsk!" noise following.

"I am not- Shawn!" Henry stopped his protests and looked down at his watch. "I'm gonna have to straighten up the guest room."

"What? Why?" Shawn stopped his moving and looked at Henry. "Oh, did you- dad, no! That place holds weird memories." Shawn started to follow him.

Gus trotted after, insisting on still knowing who was coming in the next day. And if Shawn was gonna pay him back for the now gone takeot.

Eliot loved fast cars. He loved fast motorcycles even more. They could weave in and out of traffic, they were more free, and, though he didn't really need help, they really helped with the whole 'lady magnet' vibe the gutter gave off.

At about five in the morning, he climbed off his motorcycle and stared up at a sign. ' _Welcome to Sunny Santa Barbra! Come for the fun, stay_ til _you_ _die_!' The bright red letters had dulled over time, and the picture of a happy family on a boat was peeling up from the heat of the sun and salty wind off the sea.

Sunny indeed.

Eliot sighed and stretched, looking down at the clock in his phone. Five-oh-five-ish.

He swung his leg back over the seat (much to the chagrin of his stiff muscles) and kicked up the stand.

Ah, Santa Barbra.

'Stay til you die' indeed, Eliot laughed as he drove down the surprisingly quiet road. For a lot of people, dying didn't take very long in Santa Barbra.

[HAHA ITS THREE IN THE MORNING I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LiFE WHOO I LOVE YALL]


End file.
